16 weeks? What happened to 15??

Look at that?!  Here we are at 16 weeks!  I'm feeling stronger, and I'm feeling more energy...maybe.  I don't know.  Compared to what?  How can you NOT feel more energy when you're eating finally and not throwing up as a hobby?

Last night I was on my feet ironing for two hours and I was really crampy in the legs, but I went to bed, and then I was fine.  Going to bed really does solve most things in pregnancy, I am learning.

My belly is pushing on out!  Depending on what I wear, it looks bigger or smaller than it actually is.  Sometimes I wonder what people at the gym think!  Because I'm lifting and I'm walking and climbing.  I know on the trail when we're hiking, people look at me like...???  I should have a shirt- "Not Fat.  Just Pregnant."  Kickboxing on Thursday night should be fun.  We'll see how long I go before I fall over :)

The other night we heard an organ concert at Hershey Theatre...I'm pretty sure the baby could feel it.  Also, I've been playing my guitar, which sits right over the baby.  So it's going to be a musician...but what else could it be?

Oh, and today Lauren found out she's having a girl :)  How lovely :)

The prospect of being a mom is terrifying

Last night I realized this. 

Perhaps it was because my mom had told us this situation at school where a little girl was being abused by her foster parents.  She packs her own lunch and she had wheat thins, a slice of cheese cut up into little bits, and a rotten banana.  They went to the cafeteria admin and then she went to the school nurse, and they're trying to get her help.  But this has just stuck with me all night, and now in the morning.  I just have this image in my mind of this little girl, who already thinks nobody wants her, cutting up a slice of cheese thinking it will make her more full if she just cuts it up...  my brain and heart and soul just ACHED all night long.  Today I'm still getting misty eyed.  I don't know her.  They're getting her help.  I just can't even speak of this without just bursting into sobs.  This poor little girl...

And I couldn't sleep last night.  Again.  Which is nothing new, per say, but I keep waking up out of a sound sleep.  Everyone says I'll be a great mom, but what if I'm not?  What if I struggle with depression and the inability to cope like my mother?  And her mother?  What if I have a nervous breakdown in front of my daughter and I start to pull out my hair in front of her?  And she has to call Andy, and then Andy has to take me to Philhaven because I can't cope?

I struggle with this constantly.  What if I get depressed?  What if I can't handle this?  What if I get post-partum depression and Andy can't help, and we're stuck?  These are the things I get anxious about...all because I can't handle the news about a little girl I can do nothing about.

Andy has promised me if I get to a point where I need help he will get me help.  So I already have support from the one who matters most to me.  But I just don't want to get there in the first place.  Lord willing, I won't.  But I'm becoming a realist.  Stuff happens, and sometimes it's awful, but we have to press on.  It's hormones.  It's not me.  I will survive...

Watch out for that belly!!!!

The Handsome Husband has been really honing in on his new daddy skills, even though I'm not certain he really understands the concept of "it's like running a marathon EVERY DAY."  And how, when he comes home and sits and watches TV for a few hours, the work just doesn't magically get done.  He thinks I'm nagging.  I think he's not cutting me enough slack...this could go on for years.

But in the meantime, he's become like a force-field around my baby bump.  So incredibly protective of this little mass of flesh that surrounds SB.  Last night some hooligans were riding their bikes and scooters on our end of the street, and I saw them there and thought I'd give them their space.  But the one little one cut me off at the car.  He was like, "WOAH!"  and Andy goes, "HEY!  WATCH IT!"

When we were "safely" in the car, I was like, "Andy, why did you yell?!"  He said, "Because I didn't need him knocking into your belly!"

And it was sweet.  :)

Today is my next prenatal appointment.  My mom was originally supposed to accompany me there, and she still is, but Andy was able to switch his schedule and can now come too!  So they're both happy to hear the baby's heart beat.  I wish I could see the baby again.  Just to check on it.  See if it's sucking it's thumb.  Tell it to stop, because we certainly cannot afford braces.

Yesterday I was CERTAIN I felt SB move.  I had felt it the day before, and didn't say anything, so people couldn't tell me what I did or didn't feel.  But I was laying in my car at lunch time, and it was like a kernel of popcorn popped in my stomach, and just that quickly it was done.  I texted Jodie and Amanda, and they confirmed that yes, that was an accurate description of a little nudge.

However, the nausea and gagging has come back.  The inability to eat anything and the waning hunger has left me another pound lower on the scale.  This is a grand total of 9 lbs lost since getting pregnant.  We'll see what the doctor's scale says today, but Andy said I should mention it.  I AM working out fairly regularly, but I'm just not hungry.

I want to meet SB, and I want to know if it's a boy or a girl.  I'm NOT wishing this pregnancy away, because I realize that once SB is here, it's all down hill.  If I'm not sleeping NOW, it's not going to get BETTER.  But at least I'll have something to show for it!

Just how pregnant do you want to be?

I get offended when people call my bump "little"...even though I know it's small.  But it's like my project down there, and I feel like it's mine, and a continuation of me.  So a "little bump" is like making fun of my baby and me!  "What?!  We're not BIG enough for you yet?  We're doing our best here!"

It's better when people say, "Boy, you are really carrying your pregnancy well!"  Now THAT'S a compliment!  That demands a response more like, "Well, thank you!  I knew we'd be good at this!"

But there are times where I'm getting dressed in the morning and I'm thinking- wait, just house pregnant should I look today?  Like last Sunday for church- I REALLY wanted to look pregnant, because probably deep down I wanted people to make a big deal over it.  That required me to fly through four outfits (skirts vs. dresses) to get JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT of baby bump.  Without looking just "fat" of course.

Last night at my sister's concert I wanted to let it all hang out, but I felt like the broad side of a barn, so I wanted to tone down how awful I was feeling, but yet be presentable.  Oh, and it's no less than 450 degrees at her school, so it had to be cool too.  Again, a dress won out- in fact, it was the same one from Sunday.

A little trick is, if you wear a NON pregnancy shirt, it often enhances said bump.  Just saying.

However, I am NOT a fan of maternity pants.  I feel like a grandpa with my pants pulled up under my boobs!  They are uncomfortable, and sometimes I feel like my food isn't going down because the elastic is right at my esophagus.  I think this is mental as well, because I worked so hard to get my hiney into those size 14 jeans, and I was THERE before all this happened.  So the skinny jeans went back on the shelf, and the fat jeans were too big every where else to justify wearing.

The shirts though, I may hold on to a few of those...but that's another post.

15 weeks and feelin' fine!!!

When you're pregnant, you're allowed to cry whenever you want.  It's like, your right as a preggo to just open the water works whenever you feel like it.  Andy says I could qualify for an Oscar with some of the performances I have casted- these pregnant monologues that I script.  I've been known to fall on the floor, fall dramatically into Andy's arms, or stare off into distant space, willing myself to stop the madness before it starts.

But yesterday was different...

My inlaws are down, and certain members of that party have a way of making the pregnancy all about HER.  Ahem.  I think she's just overly excited, and while I too am excited, I'm not excited to the extent that she is.  She's belittled my feelings of anxiety, stating that, "Oh, you're always going to be worried about the baby."  It's no big deal, right?

I guess the conversation that made the most impact on my meltdown yesterday, was the conversation she had on the phone with Andy a few nights before they came.  We are getting rid of the guest bedroom to make room for the nursery, which means that they won't have a place to sleep at our house when they get here.  We have already talked it over with my mom and dad, and they said that his parents are more than welcome to stay with them.

This isn't good enough for the MIL, evidently.  And as Andy held the phone on speaker for me to hear, the conversation went like this:

"You know, I'm being selfish, but I want to stay with my baby.  I don't want to stay with the Brinsers.  I want to feed my baby and take care of my baby and be there every waking second for my baby.  I don't want to just come visit.  I'm read to move to PA as soon as we can.  We were thinking about buying you a sleeper sofa.  Your living room is big enough for it.  And we'll sleep there, and then just put the bed back together when we're awake in the morning."

And immediately my pulse started to race.  My eyes started to bug out.  My heart started to race.  HER BABY???!!!  Oh no it's not.  It is NOT your baby.  It is your grandchild.  Grandchild means spoil them and then GO HOME. 

Part two:

"When you guys go into labor, we want you to call us, any time.  Day or night.  And we're going to just start driving.  We'll hopefully get to your house in time to see our new grandchild."

And my brain starts going...wait, they're going to be HERE when we bring the baby HOME?  Oh that is not even CLOSE to what is going to happen.

Because see, in my brain, we're going to bring our baby home to this quiet home and we're going to take it up to its nursery, and show it everything we've prepared for it.  And we're going to sit on our bed and just take in this miracle that God has helped us to create, and it's going to be quiet and magical.  And we're going to change the first diaper together.  And we're going to get up together when it cries at night, and it's going to be US and our tiny, new FAMILY.  We're never going to get that moment back.  We're never going to relive our first night in our first house with our first baby.

I suddenly got all these images of my MIL coming in and primping everything and prying hands reaching for the baby before mine can even get there.  And breast feeding tips.  And "are you doing that rights" and her cleaning my house and her getting in my business...and I...just...freaked.

I called my mom and I cried and cried.  "She's going to take my baby!  She's going to tell me how to do stuff!  She's going to ruin our first magical night!  I like to do things by myself!  I like to try things and if I need help then I ask!  She doesn't know me!" And my mom in all her wisdom...just listened.

And so today, after a night of MISERABLE sleep, I feel a little better.  I think.  Today is week 15.  They will leave tomorrow.  In five weeks we find out what our baby is.  They won't be back until the summer.  The baby is still in me, and it's all mine for now.  All is well.

I love my belly :)

So my EXTREMELY handsome husband, is INCREDIBLY into this pregnancy, and I LOVE it!  He gets these little ambushes and he'll just kiss and hug my stomach and talk to the baby.  I really feel like the baby can hear the vibration, and hear my giggles and my heart beating faster, and it knows it's daddy is near.

I look forward to Saturday mornings where we can just be together, because these are the most precious times to me.  I know I could be doing a million other things- cleaning, organizing, whatever- but in my heart, I know I should just lay there until Andy wakes up.  So I do.  I know these mornings are a precious commodity, one that will be gone once there are midnight feedings and a little toddler excited to get up and play with mommy and daddy.  And I think I'm going to love those mornings too!  Just not like I love the ones that we're sharing now.  What a precious, precious gift.

They tell me I'm "nesting."  I was sure that came later in the pregnancy, but I guess it can rear its ugly head at any point!  I just want everything clean.  Right now.  My sister helped me to clean out my cupboards and rearrange everything, which I don't know why that matters to the baby (but it does!).  In my heart, I really want to get that crib set up and the rocking chair in its place, and the little swing in the corner...the walls painted, etc.

Unfortunately.

We're going to have visitors up until the point where the baby is actually born.  And they're going to need a place to sleep.

Unfortunately.

14 Weeks and still going strong!

No more puking.  Very little nausea.  Thank you second trimester for being like the books say you will be!  Hoping the "more energy" part will start soon.  My behind is dragging.

We hiked for the first time on Saturday, and my body has been screaming at me ever since.  I'm not sore, mind you.  Not even a little crampy.  Just.  So.  Tired.

Here's what SB might look like! (I don't want to know how they got this picture, it is certainly not my baby, but it's really interesting)

I'm told the baby can really function now!  And grimace and suck its thumb.  I imagine SB is grimacing because it wants to meet its awesome mommy and daddy!  ;)  It's like- enough of this swimming.  Time to play!

I'm reminded of a song my mom sang to me growing up:

He's still working on me

To make me what I ought to be

It took him just a week to make the moon and the stars

The sun and the moon and Jupiter and Mars

How loving and patient He must be!

'Cause He's still working on me.

AND now I'm crying.  I used to be scared, but now I'm not.  Because I've owned that God makes everything beautiful in His time.  Allow me to be on HIS time schedule and not my own.

Happy 14 weeks, SB.  Mommy Loves You.